


Sunbeam Dust Dance

by elendri



Category: No. 6 - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-24
Updated: 2013-04-24
Packaged: 2017-12-09 10:37:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/773223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elendri/pseuds/elendri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inhale. Exhale. What more do they need?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunbeam Dust Dance

There’s a chaotic gracefulness to it now; where once it was all fumbling hands and tremulous contact that brought equal parts mortification and delight, all the trial and error has resulted in this heady, frenzied dance. He’d been unconvinced that the awkwardness would ever fade away, and Nezumi has never been so happy to be proven wrong in his life. Because there’s nothing awkward in this now, this push-pull of sinew against bone, lean muscles contracting under hands, damp skin made oversensitized by every touch. 

Shion arches up, pressing his palm to Nezumi’s side, and Nezumi sinks his teeth into his neck. 

Nezumi is unraveling, becoming boneless as heat flashes through him and melts his insides. His elbows give out and he collapses down until he and Shion are forehead and forehead and he doesn’t know which gasp belongs to who; every breath is shared. 

And now he’s chanting _love you, love you so much, love this, you feel so good, I love you_ , lips brushing against Shion’s so he knows (hopes, prays) Shion will taste his sincerity. These are the moments that feel sacred enough to say it, but he sometimes worries that Shion doesn’t realize that just because the words are only uttered here doesn’t mean they aren’t always, in all moments, true. 

Shion’s lingering kiss afterward dispels his worries though, at least for now. 

“How much longer?” Shion whispers. His head is on Nezumi’s chest, ear placed right over Nezumi’s heart. 

“Hmm?” 

“It’s already been a month. You’re just itching to go beyond the mountains or travel across the sea, aren’t you?” Shion’s tone is a bit rueful, but Nezumi can also hear the smile in his voice. “I’m just wondering how much longer I can keep you here.” 

Nezumi is mesmerized by the way the sunlight plays across Shion, each line of yellow light creeping between the blinds slashing across Shion’s sweat-soaked skin gone winter-pale. His body seems to infuse the sunlight into itself until he shines, Nezumi’s very own star that he can hold in his arms. 

Nezumi’s hand slides from Shion’s shoulder down to his waist. “There needs to be more bookshelves,” he says. “There’s not nearly enough shelf space here to accommodate my library.” 

Shion moves his head so he can meet Nezumi’s eyes. “Okay,” he says slowly, carefully. “I can do that.” 

“And that painting beside the hutch needs to go, those eyes are repulsive,” Nezumi continues. “I won’t have them staring at me every morning over my omelet.” 

Shion abruptly pushes himself off Nezumi’s chest, staring down at him with wondering bemusement. “What are you—“ He stops, visibly working through something in his head, and frowns. “That painting was a gift.” 

“It’s an atrocity,” Nezumi retorts. “And we need to get a new bed. I think we’ve quite worn this one out, don’t you think?” 

He knows what shocked Shion enough for his lips to part in that expression of astonishment: _we_.

Nezumi waits, silent, unblinking. He’s dying to know what Shion’s thinking, but he won’t ask. 

And then Shion is practically tackling him into the mattress, hugging him hard and rolling them through the already tangled bed sheets. “I’ll do it, we’ll do it,” Shion says laughingly, delightedly. He pulls back the slightest bit to look Nezumi in the eye again. “You’ll do it?” 

Nezumi gently pushes him down and kisses him. 

Content but more than a little scared, Nezumi curls around Shion’s body; now it is his ear listening to the _thump thump thump_ of Shion’s heart. He’s lightheaded and trembling, but happy. When Shion’s fingers comb lightly through his hair, Nezumi closes his eyes, feeling docile and dreamy. 

“Do you hear it?” Nezumi asks quietly. 

Shion tucks a tendril of hair behind Nezumi’s ear. “What?” he drowsily responds. 

“Just listen,” Nezumi says. 

Shion stays silent and still for a long time before finally whispering, “I only hear us breathing.” 

And, smiling, Nezumi says, “Yeah. That’s it. That’s exactly it.” 


End file.
